The Huntress

People like to follow

Not to create

They don’t like to hunt singly

But in packs

They do everything in packs

Murder, build things

Conduct business—even

Poetry

Alas, poetry is a personal thing

Like a cockroach with

Antlers a mile long, I

Have senses that guide me

And I hunt alone

Without assistance

I face the human with

The RAID spray alone

I die alone

But with dignity